A STEP IN THE DARK

Otago Witness, Issue 2997, 23 August 1911, Page 70

A STEP IN THE DARK

By RALPH RODD, Author of " A Marriage by Capture," "The Hand on the Strings," "An Interfering Englishman," "A Velvet Knave," etc., etc.

THE NOVELIST.

[Published bx Special Arrangement.]

[Copyright.] CHAPTER XXI.

f GREAT restlessness had taken possession of Madge - Storr, and after Hardrow had gone she too left the house, and hurried off to the makebelieve country of the Londoner. She wanted to walk beneath the big trees in the park; one could not think of really important subjects or ponder on mysteries cooped np in a dainty boudoir, and just. then, her mind was full of something which dwarfed everything eke. A vague thought which had come to the girl more than once in the past was beginning to take definite form. Over the beautiful little face there had oome a startled look, the lovely eyes were big with almost childish wonder; for the first time in her life little Lady Storr was asking herself just how" the world would go on if robbed of her sunny presence for ever. The answer was disconcerting.. Cnthhert would grieve terribly. Yet after a time he would fling himself into his work more vigorously than, ever, and in it find consolation. Hermione would suffer scarcely less, but there would no longer be any need for her great act of selfsacrifice, while the letter Madge would leave would for ever remove the barrier which lies and treachery had reared between her and Guy Yardley. Even Hardrow might he shocked as he realised the result of his wickedness; but, in any case, there would no longer be any fear of him doing harm. No material advantage could be derived from blackening the name of cue who had crept out of the world. At that moment Madge had enough and more than enough to occupy her thoughts, and it vexed her to find that foolish childish fancies would steal unbidden into her mind. All sorts of trifles had suddenly gained an enormous value they had never possessed before. She wanted to forget that she was the wealthy Lady Storr, that to-morrow she would be a vice-queen. She must only remember that she was a poor woman who had failed, a girl whose one act, of thoughtless folly threatened the happiness of two beings she loved eo much more truly than life itself. A young man, get up from a seat beneath a tree and he waited until Madge reached it, then he stepped out and confronted her. “Hello,” he said, but he spoke drearily I and without enthusiasm. The girl looked up quickly. She had come there to be alone; yet it was rather comforting to meet one friend, at anyrate, •whose happiness was not blighted by her presence upon the earth. Yes, it was rather comfortifTg; her imagination had wandered amidst vaster haunts of solitude than she had ever dreamed of, the great isolation of the Hereafter was something more appalling than the loneliness she had sought for in Kensington Gardens.

"Why, Terry! What is the matter?" j She had seen at a glance that Terry was not as usual. "Nothing," he said, with a great show of masculine indifference. "Things are pretty rotten, that's all." "Pretty rotten I'' she agreed. It was the first time that day that she had raised her voice against the Fates, and it did : her good. ' "Look a bit hipped yourself," Terry condescended to remark. "New hat not right, or the 'Pekes' off their food?" "You needn't be stupid, nor need you imagine you have a monopoly of trouble," Madge flashed back at him. And that soothed her a little; it made the air less , rarefied. "Don't barge," the boy said miserably. "As for trouble, you're welcome to my share of it if you want it, only I warn you it's a bit of real genuine stuff." He plunged his hands into his pockets disconsolately. "Bills?" Madge asked. And then she turned towards him eagerly; if only she could make someone happy it would be something. "Terry, you might let me help you." "I don't borrow from kids." But the boy's eyes said something less ungracious. "As a matter of fact, I'm not hard up. I've actually paid my debts and got a balance over." "Terry!" Madge looked really startled. "Yes, I have, thanks to the best chap going." Teirence O'Brian shuddered. "Going," he repeated. The word seemed ominous. "Then why are you unhappy?" "My pal is dying. They say he isn't, but I know better. He's going to peg out, and I can't do anything for him." "We have all of us to die,' said Madge, thinking nard of her own impending decease. ; The boy scowled at her resentfully. "You're a cheery little soul," he said. "No, but really, Terry dear, it's true. And death isn't as dreadful as people pretend.''* She was trying to give herself courage, but her companion never knew that. | "Oh, rats!" he snapped. "You're not; touting for an undertaker, are you?" j Madge walked on in silence, and the boy lounged by her side. She was finding it .rather difficult-to be patient with Terry, but she was conscious of a certain incongruity in quarrelling at such a time. She was much too young to understand that fate, the great sta£e manager, has a weakness for having tragedy and farce, melodrama and comedy, all played at the same moment, without due regard to the setting. It is confusing for the actors, but amusing for the audience until the callboy fetches them to take their turn on the stage. "Terry, dear, I didn't mean to be unsympathetic." "That's twice you've called me 'Terry dear.' I really don't think Storr would like it." i Madge tilted her chin a little higher. j "I cure here because I wished to be j alone," she said. I "Me' too," returned Terry ungrammatically. "Then perhaps we had better say goodafternoon," said her little ladyship with hauteur. Terry put his hand up mechanically to raise his hat, hut then something stopped him. "Oh, look here, Madge, don't be a beast," he broke out forlornly. "If you're in the blues, I'm sorry, only you mustn't expect me to be heartbroken because the third footman has smashed a teacup; I haven't any time for your footling little troubles." —"Footling-!" She wondered how Terry would feel when he put flowers on her grave—"l'm too miserable on my own account; I'm as miserable as a chap can be. I thought you were a good sort, and would be sorry for me, and instead you talk 'pi' rot.' Where's the com fort of knowing that death is a comimon everyday affair, when I'm wanting to cry like a kid because old Guy is dying?" Madge started. "Guy?" "You don't know him. Guy Yardley is .the fellow I shared chambers with at the Temple. I've often, wanted to bring him ror.nd to Eaten Gardens, but he doesn't care about society; besides, he was hard up, and didn't do that sort of thing before he came into his fortune." "Guy Yardley came into a fortune." "I wish you wouldn't go on repeating everything like that." It Avas so unlike Terry to be irritable. "Old aunt left him all her dibs, and a jolly house in Chelsea, and about the first thing Guy did was to fish me out of Queer street, set me on my legs, and ask me to go and live with him. - I spent one glorious day giving my creditors cheques and shocks at the same time, and all the while I was thinking what a jolly time old Guy and I would, have together. But when I went round to Tabbard Houee to talk things over Yardley didn't even know me." "You mean that he was ill?" "I said so, didn't I? 111! He'd had a seizure of some sort the night before, and he was about at the last gasp when I got there. It has been awful. Some days he has been conscious, and others he has slipped back again into a horrible sort of stupor •. to-day they wouldn't even let me see him. Next time I go I expect the blinds will all be down." Madge caught hold of the boy's arm. "Teri'y, you must come to Benhione at once I Be quick! Hermione must know all this —I mean about Mr Yardley's illness and fortune and everything!" The other hung back. "Oh, but Madge, why on earth ?" Lady Storr stamped her foot in an access of impatience. "If you stay there asking questions you'll be too late. I tell you we must see Hermione at once. It is for Mr Yardley's sake !*' And then, without listening to.her companion's surprised questions, the girl started off towards the entrance outside which the taxis stand.

CHAPTER XXII. Madge signed to Terry to leave the room. "Don't go away," she whispered, "we're sure to want you again. You don't mind?" And she glanced in the direction of Hermione. Madge's sister was sitting very still, the beautiful face which was really so much more perfect than little Lady Store's, wore a look that puzzled him. -If Hermione was really a friend of Yardley'e it was only natural that she should be sorry to hear of his sudden illness; but there was so much more than sorrow in her expression just then. As the door closed Hermione looked up. "I have been so unjust." There was penitence in the confession, yet there was as well a ring of relief which the -other girl understood. "Madge, I have been so horribly unjust." Lady Storr nodded her acquiescence. "Well, and who made you be?" A sudden gleam of comprehension caane into Hermione's eves. "Who " "Yes, who wanted you to believe everything that was bad against Guy Yardley? Hardrow. You know it was." "Yes," said the other slowly. "It was Hardrow ; but, Madge, why ?'' "Just because as long as you were quite sure- that Guy YardLey was a contemptible cad there was no fear of your wanting to speak to him." "You mean that Hardrow is—er —is. jealous? Oh. Madge, he couldn't doesn't know—there isn't anything to know." It was so seldom that Hermione was embarrassed; at another time Madge would have hugged her and laughed at her heightened colour; now she was too much in earnest for trifling. "An old man can always be jealous of a young one," she returned. "But it is not just jealousy, there is an even wickeder reason why Hardrow should be jealous about Mr Yardley. Don't you see that if he can get you to really believe that the letter and the page of the book we want so badly are in Mr Yardley s possession, there is no fear of your looking for them elsewhere:" Hermione nodded slowly.

"Of course not," she admitted. Yet she was gazing at her sister curiously. "Madge, -where else should I look?" The other came closer, -and though they were alone the leaned towards her sister as though she feared that any might overhear. "In Hardrow's study at Gillmgford. It was not indignation that mad© Hermione Blakeney push her sister away from her ' and hold 'her at arm's length. She had a hand on either shoulder; she was ga/.ino- into her eyes,; m her own there was amazed incredulity. "In Hardrow s study'" Madge disliked her future brother-in-law. Madge was headstrong and accustomed to have her own way m everything, but Madge was also the soul of honour. , Little Lady Storr was nodding her head emphatically. "'lt is true," she said; "it's absolutely true. Hermione, I've thought such a lot about it since I first found out where the glove was, but I've never told a soul, because I was so afraid of Hardrow getting to know, and hiding it somewhere else, or inventing plausible excuses. Hardrow is so clever. I didn't mean to tell even you just yet, only somehow I was frightened when I heard from Terry about poor •Mr Yardley. Hermione, ever since Terry told me I've been wondering whether Hardrow could have anything to do with Guy Yardley's illness. I know that it is a dreadful thing even to suggest, but it isn't really as bad to hurt a man that way as to steal his character. Perhaps it is just mv fancy, but it makes me feel creepy to think of a man who has been wronged as he has, lying there at the mercy of anyone -to whose interest it would be to harm him," Hermiione shuddered. It never occurred to either of them that Guy Yardley might have other enemies than the one they spoke of. i "I thought you ought to know _ every- ! thing." Madge went on, "because it is so horrid to think evil, even by mistake, of a man who is dying. And you did think all manner of horrid things about him, didn't you? You told him he was a cad—a blackmailer." Hermione got >up. "Don't," she said; don't! You needn't try to make me ashamed and sorry. I'm both already." U&Ay Storr nodded sympathetically. "I knew you would be when you heard. You'll send a message to Mr Yardley, won't you? I expect he has thought a good deal about what you said while he was lying there alone." "No, no, not a message. Madge! I must see him. I must ask his pardon myself !" "I don't see how you can," objected the other, for once actually startled. It was so unlike Hermione to suggest anything so outrageous. But Hermione never heard her. She was recalling the night of Hey wood's death, when,' in her perplexity, she had held out her hand to the man who had offered her his friendship. Actually, it had been he who had found her under incriminating circumstances, yet, when she asked for his help, he had needed no credentials, had hinted at no reward, but had simply been ready to do what he could to help her. It might be that at that moment Guy Yardley, in his turn, was in need of a friend, that in the hour of his great loneliness he. too, was holding out his hand in search of a comfortj able grasp. What did it matter at all | if what she proposed to do was uausual? : Guy Yardley was dying. : "I am going to him." she repeated, i "Terrv must take me. I must know for certain that he is not in need of anything I can do for him." And then Hermione left the room. If Cuthbert Storr could have seen his wife as she stood there waiting, he would, no doubt, have declared that her face was adorably puckered. She was more than a little startled by the result of what

she had done. She felt that she had opened the floodgates just as she had meant to do, now she was finding .that the waters, once' freed, were very strong, and quite beyond her control. "This is * the house," Terry said. "Goodness knows I don't want to interfere, not if you think you can be of any ■use 'to old uuy: but I warn you they won't allow you near him." ' Hermione took no notice, she was too full of her purpose. Then before Madge could speak the door of Tabard House opened, and an old lady who was wiping her eyes with a pocket handkerchief appeared. She-was accompanied by a neat parlourmaid. "I'm sure I'm very sorry, ma'am," the servant was saying. "But I knew what it would be when I took your message. Nurse is that strict." "You are sure' you told her it was Miss Weigal?" the old' lady said 1 . "It isn't as though I were a stranger, and Mr Yardley has been such a good friend to me; I am sure there couldn't be any harm in my helping to nurse him." Miss Weigal was ' so full of her own trouble that she never even noticed the three who had- just come up, certainly she never saw Madge"" Storr slip her hand under her sister's arm, or heard her whisper something in her ear. Madge was trembling with excitement; events of amazing importance were being crowded into that day. "Hermione," she breathed, "you mustn't let her go; keep her with you whatever you do." And then Lady Storr stepped behind the other two, bent upon keeping in the background as much as possible. They had mounted the shallow stone steps. It was Terry who addressed the servant. "We want to know how Mr Yardley is, Emma," he began. "These ladies" —he hesitated slightly—"are friends of his who are anxious to see him if possible." The maid just permitted herself a slight deprecating gesture. -"It is-no good, Mr O'Brian ; the master isn't allowed to see anyone, not even you. This lady wanted to herp look after Mr Yardley, and I fetched nurse to speak to her, but she wouldn't hear of it. You know Avhat nurse is, sir?" Terry nodded gloomily. He was not as a rule so ready to give up a project, but he had been turned away from the door of Tabard House so often himself of late that he had grown disheartened. "I told you what it would be," he said, turning to Hermione. She took no notice. "I am so sorry to trouble you again, but I am afraid I shall have to ask you to fetch the nurse down once more. I really must speak to her before I go." This ' to the parlourmaid. And as the words were spoken she crossed the entrance lobby and stood just at the threshold of the quaint old hall. There was a baize-covered door almost opposite to where the visitors stood; it was slightly ajar. • "Very well, miss. What name shall I say?" "Tell nurse that Mr O'Brian and two friends of Mr Yardley's want to speak to her." The baize-covered door was closed noiselessly, and the old man at the other side of it thanked his stars that caution had kept him from showing himself. It would have been bad enough if Miss Weigal had seen the one who professed to be Miss Webster's old butler, Bennet; it would have been worse still if Terence O'Brian had como face to face with Mr Brown, of Seymour Terrace The parlourmaid went upstairs again obediently, and Miss Weigal seized upon Hermione and Terry, in order to pour her tale into their sympathetic ears. For many years she had been the paid companion of Mr Yardley's aunt. Mr Yard--ley himself had been very kind and very liberal to her; but now that an opportunity had arisen of showing*her gratitude in a practical way, she was refused admittance to the house, and that by a stranger. In the little lobby, as much in the shadow as possible, Madge waited for the next move in what seomed to her the most amazing drama that had ever been enacted. The dark thoughts which had driven her from heme and had sent her to wander up and down under the big trees had all gone. Hope had, ccme instead, and something more than hope, because already she saw the end of all their troubles. The girl pressed her hands together ; she told herself that she must not lose her head. If ever there was a time when she needed air her wits it was now. Hardrow was no ordinary enemy, and Hardrow had so much to lose. Whether he realised it or not he was fig-hting for ' something more than his own selfish ends. His good name was at stake. Madge had shown him that she knew something, at anyrate, of the part he had been playing ; he had made the mistake of threatening her ; he could expect no mercy at her hands now. If only she could think:—if only she could decide upon the best way of' using "this wonderful fresh turn of events! Miss Weigal was still talking volubly. Madsre dreaded lest at any moment she should turn and recognise the girl who had sought her aid under such strange circumstances all those years ago. If she did. it would precipitate matters too much. Madge-told herself that she was not fighting for her own safety alone ; there were so many people to be thought of—Cuthbert ; the sock man upstairs; above all, Hermione. Someone Avas coming down the wide staircase. They were all of them watching the slight form of Yardley's nurse, who in her neat uniform was still conspicuous, if only by reason of the wonderful aureole of hair which framed the little white face. Terry started forward. "Nurse Lilith, these ladies " Hermione had passed him. She had reached the foot of the stairs. "Nurse Lilith and I have met before." They were such simpie words, but the

voice in -which they were spoken, while it puzzled Terry, thrilled Madge through atad through. She knew that the battle was beginning. "Yes," returned Nurse Lilith, "I remember." The face was always pale, but the curious green eye® shot malevolence. "Emma tells me you want to know how Mr Yardley is." She was trying desperately to speak just as usual, but_ the woman who was confronting her interrupted. "Not frotm you," she flashed. "You lied to me before when John Heywoodwas dying-. You brought me a false message. You had gained admission to the Hermitage by fraud. You were there for an evil purpose of your own. How do I know that it is not the same now ? I am going to take charge of Mr Yardley myself. I forbid you to enter his room again!" "I really canot allow anyone to interfere between me and my patient without the doctor's permission." Hermione deliberately pushed the speaker aside. Nurse Lilith's presence there had suggested all sorts of dreadful possibilities; she felt that at that moment she was fighting for the very life of the man- she loved. "There will be plenty of doctors and nurses here before long to settle such matters," she said coldly. "For the present I should advise you to look to your own affairs." "I am sure I don't know what Lord Hardrow will say to his fiancee taking such interest in a single gentleman." Even Terry shuddered at the vulgarity of the thrust. Hermione might never have heard the insolence, only she held her head very high as she made her way up the stairs. It was then Madge saw her opportunity and seized it. "I don't think you need trouble about that," she said in her clear young voice; "and, .anyway, it isn't your concern. Still, it might stop malicious tongues if Miss Weigal went with my .sister. You will, won't you?" And suddenly she pounced on the old lady with startling vehemence. She was really afraid of the effect her unexpected appeal might have. "Hush!" she whispered, "you mustn't recognise me just yet." Then aloud: "You wanted to help to nurse Mr Yardley, didn't you? Now is your chance. Don't" leave my sister until I com'e back, but tell her to telephone for Sir Cuthbert Storr; he'll take care of you both." And then, with equal suddenness, Madge seized upon Terry. " "Come along, there's such a lot for us to do. We must go and find a car that'll take us to Gillingford." Her eyes were sparkling with excitement. "A fast car, Terry. There isn't a moment to lose." And, still grasping his arm, she dragged him to the front door. Nurse Lilith watched them go. For the first time in her life she was completely nonplussed. She could not use„ force to eject Lord Hardrow's fiancee, nor yet to prevent the departure of Lady Storr. She realised that her hold over Terry had been snatched from her; be was Guy Yfirdley's friend, and had always, leen restrained with difficulty; now that his suspicions were aroused he might do anything. Lilith Blown saw her cherished plans crumbling. And then she made her way to the green baize door, behind which "Bennet the butler" had, and as she went she was .aski | ng'~'herself what possible reason Madge Storr cOuid have for going to Gillingford. (To be continued.)